


Cold Feet

by dramatic owl (snarky_panda)



Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: Alcohol, Episode Related, Female Friendship, Gen, Minor Character(s), No one is leaping, Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 19:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21002792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarky_panda/pseuds/dramatic%20owl
Summary: Donna gets cold feet.





	Cold Feet

**Author's Note:**

> Background scene for the episode 'Star Crossed'. Written for the ladiesbingo challenge on dreamwidth, for the prompt: afternoon.

“It’s a little early in the morning for hard liquor.”

Donna nearly choked on the last swallow of her drink. Bena slid onto the stool next to her.

“I knew I’d find you in a bar.”

“Don’t sneak up on me like that, Bena. What made you think I’d be at this bar anyway?”

“This was our favorite place when we first moved into town. Though you’re a bit overdressed for it, aren’t you,” she quipped, indicating the white satin wedding dress that Donna still wore. “The place is looking a bit shabby these days but they still play great music. Anyway, I knew you wouldn’t be at Bluewater. That would’ve been the first place Sam would think to look and you’ve obviously decided to avoid him today of all days.”

Donna groaned and dropped her head in her hands. “Oh, God. Sam.”

“Uh-huh. This was a lousy thing to do to him.”

“I can always count on you to be blunt with me.”

“It’s the reason you chose me to be your maid of honor.”

“One of the reasons.”

“So? What the hell, Donna?”

“I got cold feet.”

“That’s an understatement.”

The bartender chose that moment to approach and take Bena’s order, so Donna bit off the retort that was on the tip of her tongue and ordered another drink.

“How many have you had?”

“Bena! What are you, my mother too?”

“This will only be her second.” The bartender picked up her empty glass. “I’m watching her.”

“Who asked you to watch me?” Donna snapped at him.

“It’s part of his job.” Bena turned to him. “I’ll have a Sea Breeze, virgin, no vodka.”

He walked away to get their drinks.

“God, that’s annoying. Just because I’m drinking in a bar at eleven o’clock in the morning wearing a wedding dress doesn’t mean I need to be watched.”

“But you have to admit you’re the most interesting sight in here.”

They both burst into giggles.

“I have been getting strange looks from the other patrons. But don’t worry. I’ll be careful. It would be a waste if I puked all over this nice dress.”

“Don’t you dare.”

When their laughter subsided Bena quietly said, “Sam Beckett isn’t Dan Markel, you know.”

“I know.”

“Sam’s the first guy since Dan that you didn’t run away from like a scared rabbit. Until now.”

“Until now,” Donna muttered in agreement.

“Something set you off today.”

She was already serious with Dan Markel when she started doing her doctorate work at M.I.T. He was intelligent, handsome, attentive, and she loved him, or at least she thought she did. At the time she couldn’t put her finger on why she was having so many misgivings about him in the months leading up to their wedding day, but she became so anxious and morose that she couldn’t get out of bed some mornings. Verbena Beeks was the one who suggested it might help if she spoke to someone. She didn’t know anything about Dan at that point, just that Donna appeared to her to be clinically depressed and talk therapy, perhaps even medication if called for, could help.

From the time she first met her Donna respected her as a scholar and as someone who would someday be at the top of the psychiatric profession. Bena was easily the most brilliant person she’d ever known. She was one of the first students to be accepted into Harvard’s new combined M.D.-Ph.D. program, which allowed her to take courses at both Harvard and M.I.T. She was starting her third year in the program when Donna met her at a seminar on quantum physics in neuroscience and psychology. The topic of the seminar didn’t really have anything to do with Donna’s concentration directly, but the idea intrigued her so she went. She and Bena struck up a conversation about what had been covered in the seminar and they hit it off immediately. They ended up going for coffee after they left the lecture hall so they could keep talking.

Bena was the only one who noticed the way her mood had shifted so drastically after a few months. Not her housemates, not even her fiancé Dan picked up on it. They began to talk about it as friends rather than as therapist and patient, but Bena had a talent for asking the right questions and prompting the necessary breakthroughs. They talked about her father and how his abandoning the family had left her wounded and unable to trust people. Bena suggested that maybe that was why she’d settled for someone like Dan, who was nowhere near good enough for her.

Together they picked apart how Dan acted and spoke to her. How he wanted to know where she was at all times, but if she asked him where he was going, he snapped at her. How it had bothered her but she’d brushed it off. How many of his comments that Donna accepted as innocuous actually undermined and devalued her. So many small subtle things that added up and threatened to crush her. No wonder the idea of marrying him made her so depressed.

After several weeks of heart-to-heart talks with Bena, Donna ultimately called off that engagement. Months passed before she relaxed and stopped feeling fearful that he would retaliate. It was over a year before she considered going out and meeting anyone new, and until Sam came along, she had nipped in the bud every relationship that showed any hint of becoming serious.

“So, what was it?” she pressed.

“I don’t know, Bena.”

“Do we need to go through the whole thing again?”

“What for?”

“Because issues aren’t necessarily done just because we talk them out once. We process things further after that. We can examine the same thing again and again and get new perspectives on it each time.”

Donna heaved an exasperated sigh. She really wasn’t in the mood for a therapy session now, even if she did admittedly need one.

“You know I hate when you go into shrink mode with me.”

Bena waited patiently.

“We already talked about my father.” She recited, “He had his own issues, and his abandonment of me and my mother wasn’t about me.”

“Or your mother either. Those were days where everyone was expected to get married and have children, and to like it. Not everyone is cut out to be married, or to be settled at all.”

“True, and I don’t think he liked a settled, sedentary life. Maybe that’s why the military appealed to him.”

“Maybe.”

“There’s something else.” Donna paused, tried to put her thoughts in order. “I mean, I was seven when he left, so there’s no way I will ever know or remember very much about him. But after we talked about him the last time, I got to thinking how a lot of men in those days, if they could do it, got married to women and had families so no one would know that they weren’t attracted to women.”

She let the thought hang in the air for a moment then continued.

“It was the fifties, he’s Catholic. Or he was. He was military.”

“All circumstances that meant he had to keep up certain appearances and couldn’t be himself.”

“_If_ that was the case.” Donna gazed into her drink pensively, tears unexpectedly pricking her eyes. She picked it up and took a large swallow. “He must’ve been very unhappy.”

Bena nodded somberly and took a sip of her cranberry and grapefruit juice. “But that wasn’t about you.”

“I know. And maybe that hurts too. That it wasn’t about me. It was completely indifferent of me. He was my father – it should’ve been more personal.”

“That is a very good observation.”

Donna smiled wanly at her. “I really owe Sam an explanation. I never told him about Dan because I just figured what guy wants to hear about your previous boyfriends? Especially one I was engaged to.”

“It might help him to understand if he knows that you had a negative experience the first time you were engaged. Sharing it with him could help you too. Anyway, I’m sure Sam realizes you weren’t sitting on a shelf until he met you.”

“The thing with Sam is he wants to fix everything, and some things just can’t be fixed.”

“You can just tell him you need him to listen, that you don’t expect him to fix things. Take that pressure off.”

“Especially since there’s no fixing today.”

“Today can be fixed, if it’s what you want. The wedding can go forward this afternoon. Everyone’s still around, including the priest.”

Donna groaned.

“Do you not want to get married?”

“I don’t know. I do really love Sam, Bena. But I’m scared of the next step. I know it’s a hell of a time to figure that out, but I am.”

“Then you need to tell him that.”

The bartender approached and gestured behind them with his head. “Don’t look now, but I think the groom and the best man just walked in.”

“Oh, butt out,” Donna snapped, but she twisted around to see.

Sure enough, Sam was standing just inside the entrance, Al Calavacci at his side, both of them still wearing their tuxes. Donna turned back and eyed her friend suspiciously. Bena shrugged innocently.

“I may have mentioned this place to him at some point. Anyway, you have to face him sometime.” She slid off the barstool, momentarily rested a supportive hand on Donna’s shoulder. “_Tell_ him. I’ll keep Al occupied so you can both have some time alone.”

She walked away and Donna turned to face Sam again. He was clearly hurt and confused, and yet somehow his expression conveyed all the love he inexplicably still felt for her.

Donna gestured to the stool that Bena had just vacated and Sam unhesitatingly walked toward her.


End file.
